Valar Dohaeris:
by whiteuniform
Summary: "All Men Must Serve." Daenerys wasn't able to crossed the narrowed sea and was stuck in the mercy of the Usurper. But with Doran's promise of peace with Dorne and Ned's oath to take her under his house, were she was able to live peacefully. For fifteen years she grew as a ward to the Martell's now she is sent to Winterfell to pay the other half of the bargain . [Daenerys/Robb]
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This has not been BETA'd, just proofread it by myself, so if you've seen some grammatical errors, feel free to leave a review, so I am able to immediately correct it. Constructive Criticism is highly encouraged. Don't hold back, but No Trolls please. Feel free to leave suggestions/comments, I'll consider it in future chapters of the story.

Disclaimer: I wish it was mine...

**Valar Dohaeris**

_"All Men Must Serve"_

* * *

**Chapter One: Bound By A Promise**

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**Sunspear, Dorne**

Salt breeze blew from the Summer Sea as the blood orange trees danced with it. The trickle of water from the hundreds of fountains and pools that decorated the enchanted garden was melodies far more enchanting than the lute. The pale pink marbles that pave the gardens and courtyard glistened under the glaze of the sun.

The Water Gardens.

A palace that hid an oasis in the desert of Sunspear.

Home of House Martells.

Oberyn Martell, marched through the garden, adorning his golden satin silk robes with the intricate details of his house sigil over his light metallic tunic and brown leather pants. His leather boots cluck through the pale pink marbles in a hurry, waving his hands towards the giggling maidens that pranced around the gardens.

Peering through the outstretch leaves and branches from the trees, he caught sight of his target, laying perfectly elegant in her pale rose satin silk dress, her silver long hair spread softly over the dornish carpet, and her alabaster skin twinkle brightly like diamonds.

"Daenerys," he called approaching the maiden, as she turned her body towards him, a gentle smile adorning her beautiful young face.

"Oberyn!" she exclaimed, sitting up. "You're back! Sunspear missed you!" Oberyn knelt in front of her, catching her in his arms as he gave her a gentle sqeeze.

"With you here? I doubt it." He japed, his sharp face made into a mischievous grin as he release her and went towards the table were fruits of Dorne to pluck a grape and proceed to enjoy it's juices.

"Ellaria has missed you." She pulled herself up and went beside him. "… as well as your daughters. They have come to teach me the way of the blades everyday and have been patronizing me for my lack of finesse in such area, commenting on my sickly arms and zero reflex." Oberyn bursted in laughter.

"You're not welcome in the battle field, my sweet. You're too gentle and kind." Oberyn said sweetly to her, curling a strand of hair in his callous fingers, his eyes watching her adoringly. For fifteen years he has watched her grew to a woman whose beauty men will bring forth a war. She was ethereal and unworldly, no words, songs and poems could ever do justice to her magnificence. Her light purple eyes could stare straight through a man's soul like she could see everything about you. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, daughter of the Mad King and sister to Elia Martell's husband, Rhaegar Targaryen.

She brings forth in her wake a tragic past despite her gentle heart. Fifteen years ago, brought forth the downfall of once a glorious dynasty, a rebellion from the Usurper, now king of Westeros, Robert Baratheon, and the betrayal of house Lannister. Elia Martell, Oberyn's beloved sister, raped and murdered, her innocent children murdered, by a guard permitted by the Lannister. His anger boiled, how he hated those pretentious bastards. And poor babe Daenery's whose saving grace was the offered peace between Dorne and King's Landing as well as the pleas of the Eddard Stark, close confidant of the Usurper as well as the brother of Rhaegar's lover and the maiden that brought forth war. Robert had agreed in the condition that such parties will take responsibility; Martell's to raise her and the Starks to wed her.

Oberyn had tried to persuade Doran, the current Lord of Sunspear, for the hand of his Ward, but Doran had firmly refused. She was bound by a promise in exchange for her life and she must keep her promise, which she was reminded of that promise every nameday. Secretly the Martell's raised a toast to her name, and in Sunspear, she was revered highly disregarding her family's fall of grace. Both brothers believed that Iron Throne was hers alone and would whisper to her of her birthrights and to never forget it.

"Dany" Ellaria's voice bellowed, as she appeared before them. Ellaria was Oberyn's current paramount. She quickened her pace as she saw Oberyn's face and went up to hug him which he returned. "My love, you have come back." She exclaimed. "I'm home." He whispered back.

Ellaria released him and turn towards Daenerys, still in Oberyn's arms, "Doran has asked for you." Daenery's nodded to both of them before turning to leave. Oberyn watched her go.

* * *

"Your highness," Daenery's bowed lowly as the wheeled gout man watched her forlornly. "my sweet queen," he called her fondly, beckoning her near him to which Daenery's complied and kneeled beside him. He traced his frail fingers against her pale cheeks as she leans in to his touch "… I bare such grave news. It is time I must surrender you."

"… Fifteen long years should be enough and that you must fulfill the other end of the bargain." He hissed between gritted teeth. Doran Martell too has come to love the child as if it was his own. He raised her and as much as he wants her stay, she was honor bound and he can't stand to ruin what was left of her honour.

"I should have listened to Oberyn and chain you here in Sunspear, my desert flower. I mourn for letting you back to that awful place. Your beauty and gentle heart deserves more than what those vermins could offer." Doran exclaimed as Daenery's smiled weakly to him. "I am most grateful for raising me well Doran, no words could ever express it. But the Usurper will not see me weak and cower. I will not let it."

Doran smiled at her, clasping her hands to his, "Have I ever told you about the history of the Water Garden?"

* * *

**Two Moons and Three Suns Later…**

* * *

Daenery's gaze nervously beyond the edge of the ship, strong winds blew through her silver mane, her golden georgette silk dress bellowing with the wind as White Harbour came to view. She could feel her heart hammering through her bones, a slight tingle from the tips of her fingers and little bit light headed; she hadn't slept well for the last three days.

How she missed the Water Gardens. It was the first time she has been away from home. Now she's returning to the snake's pit with nothing but a distraught heart and a worried mind. Oberyn had held her firmly and whispered sweet nothings, before boarding the ship. No one from the Martell went with her as they have affairs to take care in Sunspear, but both brothers had made her promise to write to them as much as possible.

"M'lady, we're almost to dock," she nodded her head towards the ship captain. She draped her silk wrap over her face and pulled her hood over her silver hair. Nearing the port she could see guards of grey and black, direwolves banners flapping with the sea wind; a burly man in his mid-thirties in heavy black tunic, leather, and fur standing gruffly among his guards.

Once the ship docked, Daenerys tighten the fabric wrap warding off the gold breeze of the north, taking a hesitant step off the ship plank. The burly man with his long face, dark hair, grey eyes and closely-trimmed beard, took a step towards her carrying a coat made out of bear fur.

"Daenerys Targaryen?" he asked in raucous voice and the girl nervously nodded. He made to drape the fur around her shoulders as Daenerys stood stiffly from his gesture. He introduced himself to her as Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, before leading her towards the stables to ride for Winterfell which was half-a-day from White Harbour.

Stallions in the North were very much different front the ones in Dorne; there, horses were lean, slightly built but agile, here, the horses are gruff like the men that ride them with thick fur. Mounting them was quite a feat for the petite maiden, pity from the guards that accompanied where she was able to sort-of sit herself.

"Have you ridden a mare m'lady?" the guard questioned, "Please forgive me, this is a first for me." she answered and the guard curved a smile at her, "Not to worry, a little sore but all is good. You'll be riding horses in Winterfell, no time you'll get used to them."

Eddard Stark approach Daenerys on his mount, pulling her reins. With a wave of his hand, his men rode for Winterfell.

* * *

**Winterfell**

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"Mother," Robb pushed opens the wooden door towards his parent's chambers, finding his mother reclining on her chair facing the heart that warmth the room, her knuckles tightening around the curve of the chair's arm. He called out to her again. "Robb" she responded, beckoning him to her.

Robb Stark, stocky-build, blue eyes, and thick auburn red hair first born son of the Eddark Stark and Catelyn Tully and heir of Winterfell, knelt in front of his mother, watching her mother's forlorn expression. She made to cup his cheeks, smiling softly to him "I still remember the day when you came to this world, red face and scrawling. Oh, how I wish to keep you in my arms."

"I'm no babe, mother." He grinned.

"Yes, no babe at all." She ruffled his hair affectionately, "I want you to live your life, to kiss a girl and wed a woman and father a son, but in time, when you are man enough and with a girl proper for you."

He sighed heavily, "Father has made a promise Mother, and it is our duty to fulfill it."

"But a Targaryen?! What must Ned be thinking to agree to such things?!" she exclaimed, Robb made to hushed her softly, "That we shall never know, come Mother. Stark banners has been spotted, let us greet father and the Mad King's daughter."

* * *

**Winterfell Courtyard**

* * *

The Catelyn and her children lined up to greet Eddard Stark's returned, the hooves of his men's horses thundered through the damp land with Ned in front next to him a hooded figure whose petite form could only make up for a girl.

Ned dismounts from his horse, as Catelyn run up to greet her husband's cheeks with a kiss. Arya, Rickon and Brandon hugged their father, as he pulled them inside the castle, "Tend to the Lady." He bellowed as he disappeared from the oak doors.

Robb, turned his attention to the girl whom just climb down from her horse, assisted by one of the guards. He watched her wave the guard politely with a nod. Her feet were shaking, non-visibly but he noticed; she was holding the reins to steady herself. He approached her just in time to catch her from falling down the mud.

"Thank you," She said to him, as he hoisted her up, not noticing a fabric which was used to wrap around her face was caught up from the reins, it slipped off her face immediately. She turned to look up to him, shocked and Robb was awestruck. He was enchanted by her. Her alabaster skin was like freshly fallen snow and her eyes were an odd light purple hue, she was possibly the most beautiful girl in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

Daenerys' hadn't notice the fabric wrap falling off her face—she was too occupied by this stranger's face; it was the most unconventional handsome she has ever laid eyes upon, with hair burning red and blue as cold as the narrow sea.

A moment had passed, both staring at each other, before she pushed herself away from him, with him holding her steadily. "Please forgive me; I'm not used to riding."

It was velvet, soft and rich voice, compared to his northern coarse voice. In time, Ned walked out from the castle doors towards them, "Let's get you settled in, Daenerys. It was a long ride and it's your first time here, the cold might be a little harsh, I'll send some extra fur."

She nodded to him, Lord Stark turned to his heir, "Have you met my son, Robb?"

"I have." She gave a curved a small smile, but Robb looked away towards the stables, a lone figure standing behind the shadows, he gulped.

"I'll ask the head maid to draw you bath, Lady Targaryen." He muttered before turning away and leaving.

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**Update Schedule: Two days.**

**P.S. **Please take time to leave a REVIEW. I really want to know what you think


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: This has not been BETA'd, just proofread it by myself, so feel free to correct me especially on technicalities of the stories. Like in the beginning constructive criticism is always welcome but no troll's please. Please leave a comment/opinion/suggestion about the chapter, let me know what you think and what you think should happen. BTW, I also posted the same story in ASOIAF so that those who are in the book category may also have a chance to read it. tehee~

Just so you know, for the first maybe three to four chapters will be possibly slow since I'll be establishing a lot of foundations for the stories, so for those who think it was a bit slow don't worry you'll be amazed at some time-jumps in the later chapters. I was aiming to write possibly a 4 year time line.

I changed the title to Valar Dohaeris (All Men Must Serve) cause if I don't I'll probably go back to the original plot line and kill off one of the Starks, we shall see... or maybe Robb? tragic ending. tsk! Rest Assured I'm not going to— kill off Robb I mean. About the pets? will stay tune for that.

**Disclaimer: **I wish I live in their world... or own it and be freak'n god...

* * *

**Chapter Two: Honor and Duty**

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**Daenerys**

* * *

_Night falls faster at the north_—or so what Doran had told me in his one too many tales. The sky has turned dark and the winds grew colder as the moon ascends higher. Torches lit up to light the quiet streets in Winterfell as I watch from my window some men and women hurry to their abode.

I drew the blankets from my bed to wrap around my body against the chill of the night. The heat from the hearth did not bring me warmth like the suns in Dorne and the chill frozen my fingers cold and cold smokes puff out from my chap lips as I breathe out air.

A knock came from my door calling me from my reverie, "My Lady, blankets and furs for the night?" a male voice called in. "C-come I-in." I stuttered as eloquently as I could. The creak from the door opened as a burly man I haven't met came in, his hair curly and black as raven, skin as pale as the snow, carrying heavy bear furs and blankets of wools.

He caught me shiver as he kneeled down to me, dropping the furs to the floor, He took my hand and flinched, "My Lady you're freezing." He worried, "I'll get more wood for you." I nodded to him as he made to stand up. He grabbed the furs and blankets from the floor and wrap it around me, heaviness weighing on my shoulder but I welcomed it.

"Your name." I called to him softly, he turned to me confused, "May I ask for your name?" I told him again. He looked at me, his unusual dark purple eyes, "Jon Snow."

* * *

**Robb**

* * *

I turned back, watching her as my father led her inside the castle, shaking surely both from the cold and the long ride—White Harbour takes a day to ride if you take to rest in one of the inns on the way, but surely since the affair of her travel must be kept secret, father has must have ridden with her in half a day's time.

I hurried along the stables to find Theon Greyjoy brushing furiously the mane of his gelding, his fur coat and iron sword lay forgotten on the stool. I watched him, disapproving looks marred his face. "She's pretty, 'aye." He commented.

Leaning back on the wooden pillar that held up the stables, "Pretty with her hair, bloody ghost with her skin." He continued with a gesture. I asked for his point. He sighed, putting the brushed down, "I know about the contract and you's to be marrying that Targaryen girl; honor you Starks have—"

"It ain't written in stone, Theon." I cut him off, "Father hadn't said anything yet. Assumptions, I tell yah," he shook his head.

"I hears your mother ain't agreeing with you on that. For old god's know, Lord Stark won't be letting Jon be marrying the girl less you want all of Dorne coming to this side of the world."

I arched an eyebrow at him, "What are you implying exactly?"

"Jon's a bastard, ain't fit to marry someone of high birth."

"Watch your tongue Greyjoy, bastard or not, he is still my brother. My father's blood runs through his veins, least you remember that." I reminded him through gritted teeth, glaring at him too. He looked unimpressed.

"You know, it ain't the point here." He said and at the back of my mind, I knew he was right. Jon is my brother through my father even if our mother's were not that same. We grew up together and I've never looked at him lesser than anything. But the reality is that Jon will always be the bastard child of Eddard Stark, he can never have land entitled to him nor worthy marriages even if the family of the bride maybe fallen off graces.

I always knew, the day father told us about the promise, that I would be the one marrying her, even if he didn't said anything as to who would. I'm sure it couldn't be Brandon nor Rickon, they were too young, my mother would never allow it. It could not be Theon cause he's not even a Stark. It came down to me and Jon and with Martell's backing the Targaryen girl, they would never allow a bastard to marry her.

So I knew, deep down, always knew, that it would be me. At first, I hated it. Loathed it to my very core, I'd rather die, I always said, than marry the Mad King's daughter. I knew what her family did, who they were and what they are—kidnapped my aunt, raped and murdered her; her father killed my uncle and my grandfather. I couldn't understand why father would agree to this. Should he hate this girl? But he sat me down one night, told me about the siege in Dragonstone that I've heard so many times from Maester Luwin, but the way my father told me was not as glorious as I imagine it to be.

He told me, how Rhaella held her daughter in her arms and sent her youngest son to the free cities in the east, pleaded on bended knees not to Robert, but to his father, asking him to spare the babe, told him that to have mercy on a child whose fault was being born to the wrong house. My father would always end the tale, _Īlōn pryjassis līr īlōn mazverdis _'What destroys us, creates us'.

"What you to do with Jeyne?" He said, finishing up, "Westerling? Nothing." I told him.

"Ain't nothing when yeh' send 'er yellow lilies every morn'ng. I know you have feelings for 'er, ain't blind to know that. She 'aven feelings for yah too. Needs to tell her 'em truth, straight out from the gutter, non matter if it hurt her."

I nodded to him in agreement. Jeyne Westerling was a girl though of high born her mother wasn't. She was sent here to learn the ways of being a proper lady with his sisters and during her time here, he adored her. But now things changed. No more secret whispers and stolen kisses in forgotten corridors.

"Does she know?" Theon shook his head, "True I care about her." I told him.

"Not enough though."

* * *

**Jon**

* * *

I descend the stairs from the highest tower of the Winterfell castle. Hurried my pace before the girl freeze to death, I wondered why father place her there? With winter coming, the winds would grow colder with every passing night. At times even northern men feel the cold a little harsh more so to a girl who wasn't even used to the brutal frosty north. As ungodly her looks are, she looks closed to be frozen to her death.

"Sansa," I called, as my sister and her auburn hair climbed towards me, holding a thick woolen dresses, leather gloves and heavy cotton night dress. She looked up, her blue eyes embed with curiosity.

"Brother," she acknowledge, "Mother asked me to bring her dresses, since most of her clothes probably won't do her good."

I nodded to her, "you made it yourself?" I asked and she nodded proudly. "I wanted to gift her. She's so beautiful; she's white as snow. I wonder if she'd like it." He chuckled at her sweetly.

"She'd loved it, I'm sure. You make the most wonderful of dresses in 'ol of Winterfell." He complimented, "Now hurry along, give it to her." She smiled to him and hurried away.

As he exited the huge wooden doors towards the court yard where the piles of fire wood stack up near the stables, he saw his brother and his father's ward coming out, discussing in harsh whispers. I bellowed them both. They look up and trudge towards me.

"isn't it cold to be strolling tonight, you two?" I told them, both of them smiled to me cheekily.

"Ain't swinging that way, Snow. This dick is for those who have cunts." He gestured by holding his crotch, the three of us bursting into fits of laughter,"Speaking of which, I'm off to bed, Ros is waiting." Theon waved us good bye and went away.

A moment has passed before them, just watching the courtyard when Robb asked me of my opinion with the Targaryen girl, "I don't know. Pretty girl—scared, can't say for certain."

He looked at me with the same hues of his mother's eyes, "Noted. Anything else?" I looked at him confusingly, "Are you asking me whether she is as mad as her father?"

"No! I just want to know what you really think of her as a woman that's all." he shook his head furiously frustration. "I ought to know what my brother or any of my siblings think of her, if I'm to marry her."

"She ain't 'little off of her head' Robb." I told him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and giving a slight squeeze, "She ain't raised by her father and why you so sure you're marrying her? Father hasn't said anything yet"

"It's pretty obvious Jon and no, she's raised by dornish barbarian men." He snorted. I smiled weakly at him.

"So how is Jeyne doin'?" Robb crestfallen expression told enough. "I haven't told her anything yet, unless I know for certain. Recall he be telling us after we break our fast"

"Sorry then," I told him sincerely, "Nothin' to be sorry about. Knew Jeyne ain't to be my wife even if I wasn't promise to anyone."

As I looked at my brother, brother who I grew up with, whom I am envious about—seeing his dejected expression at the prospect of marrying someone he did not love frightened Jon. It was one thing he did not feel envious about, as bastards he was entitled to choose while Robb, who bested him at everything wasn't able to decide for himself.

"Here," handing him a couple of firewood, "bring this to the lady in the tower, she's not handling the cold very well."

* * *

**Daenerys**

* * *

"It's beautiful." I felt the woolen fabric under my touch, it was such a beautiful colored blue, embroidered with a white shade roses, "Do you like it?" she asked excitedly and I told her I loved it. Indeed I truly adored the dress, it was welcoming to receive it.

"I sewed it myself," she said proudly. I smiled to her, as I express to her of being impress with her skills in her needlework. "I don't know how to make embroidery you see, dresses in the south were much more free flowing," I told her and she offered to teach me needlework where I excitedly accept.

"I'm sorry, I did not greet you when you arrive, I was finishing up your dress." And I waved her off that she has nothing to be sorry about and that I am not the person who could be revered in that way.

"Did you dye your hair? Or is it naturally this white?" she asked combing through my loose hair, "No, I don't dye them, the King would not allow it. It is to remind me of my birth and the shame of my family who has fallen off of grace."

She looked at me pitifully and for a small chance, I thought I look pitiful too, I waved the thoughts away as she apologize for being rude, "No matter Sansa. It is true, no used denying it." She shook her head disapprovingly.

"When you become my sister, you'll no longer bear your family's burden and when I become queen, you will no longer bear the shame of fallen off graces." And I couldn't help but smile at her and gather her in my arms. _Oh sweet girl_.

A knock from the door caught our attention, it creaked opened and expected it was Jon, but it was auburn hair that greeted us, "Robb!" Sansa exclaimed, embracing him in a tight hug. I stared at them and envy their affection for each other and wish at the back of my mind I could ever have a chance to hug my brother or any of her kin.

"Lady Sansa! A bit late now isn't it? Run along, you shall see the lady when we break the fast in the morning." He told her as she smiled at him and went off. I watched him, watch his sister and made to close the door. He was carrying fire woods in his arms which he set beside the hearth. He placed one log, to increase the heat in the room.

"Wine my lord?" I gestured to him, making to pour wine to a goblet, but he caught my hand and I fought to hold in a gasp from my chattering teeth.

I felt him rub his both his hands to mine, in closing it into a prayer. I watched him, brought it just before his lips, blowing warmth breathe, I gulped. "You're freezing." He said in the matter.

A slip my hands off of his slowly and proceed to pour wine, "I'm no good with cold." I confessed to him. He told me he could ask for me to move to another chamber but I rebuffed him since I love the view from my window where I can watch the whole of Winterfell and the land beyond its wall.

We talked much about the days of our childhood, Dorne and the Martells and him—the moment he knew Jon was a bastard and how he tried not to cry but was failing miserably. They exchanged a few laughs that night, talked until the moon had sat at the highest point in the sky. They bade goodnight to each other, no kisses handed.

* * *

That breakfast, Ned declared Robb his engagement to Daenerys Stormborn. Catelyn wasn't much enticed with the idea, Sansa was excited at the prospect, and the young siblings were half-curios, half-confused of what that meant. Jon patted Robb gently as well as Theon, but Robb looked at Daenerys who in exactly the same time look to him.

It was at that moment, something felt like a magnetic pull tugged at their very souls, like fate was tying a string of red that the more they tugged the more they felt they are bound together. "… the wedding will be at the same day as Daenerys' name day." Eddard Stark declared.

"A week's time my Lord?" Daenerys asked, breaking contact with Robb. Ned nodded to her as well as everyone who bursted into wedding preparations. The family move on to the courtyard where the boys practiced their sword plays and archery, Sansa and Arya where kept inside the hall with 'Ol Nan was teaching them stitching. Daenerys wanted to come but Sansa forbade her, because she was using the time to make her wedding dress. So she sat at one of the barrels, wearing the dress Sansa gave her covered in wolf fur coat, leather knee boots, and leathered gloves. Her hair braided up.

They were now watching Bran, shooting miss arrows, the older ones laugh and teased and Lord Stark bellowing Bran to keep practicing. At some time, Arya took arms and aimed for a bull's eye, that spark a chase between her and Bran. Fits of laugh erupted as they continued on.

Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's master-at-arms walked up to the Warden of the north, his sword dragging at the wooden floor, "We captured a deserter m'lord."

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**Update Schedule: ****Three to Four Days.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Again, not BETA'd, proofread it by myself... you know the drill. Just a reminder, comments/opinion/suggestion are welcome as always. Moving on, I really do appreciate your reviews and yes, I read them. Kinda like my little rewards for my efforts. Anyway, there are some reviews that I wish I could answer but then it would be spoiling, so just stay tuned to future chapters to see where the characters goes. All the characters that I used exist in the ASOIAF universe and there is some characters that you would find questioning but be patient, all will be explained in due time.

**Disclaimer:** There are some lines I've taken from the tv series but spoken by different characters. I don't anything but the story in my head.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Our Way is the Old Way**

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**Daenerys**

"Easy boy," hushing gently as I pulled the reins to a stop. A gush of cold breeze brush the tips of my nose, tugging the fur coat tighter around me to fight out the bitter morning cold. I glanced at the wide plains and small hills, some green with grass, some blanketed with white ice. Jon came beside me, helping me down from my mare, guiding me then towards where Robb and Bran where standing. Lord Stark stood just a feet away from a stone table, that curved in the middle with red dried blood dripping down from it—clearly a beheading stone. Theon Greyjoy beside him holding a wolf pelt that sealed the patriarch's greatsword Ice.

I watched as three figures came into view, two were clearly men-at-arms and one in the middle whose hands tied behind his back, scrawny and blonde. "White walkers, I saw them." I heard him mumble until you stood just infront of the stone.

"I know I broke my oath, and I know I'm a deserter. I should have gone back to the Wall and warned them… But… I saw what I saw—I saw the White Walkers. People need to know. If you get word to my family, tell them I'm no coward. Tell them I'm sorry."

The deserter was forced to kneel, his neck on the curve of the stone, as Eddard Stark pulled his sword from the pelt. "In the name of Robert of the house Baratheon, first of his name, king of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protectors of the realm; I, Eddard Stark sentence you to die."

"Don't look away." I turned to face Jon, as he leaned away; his eyes stared unwaveringly at the scene. Lord Stark was to execute a deserter, a deserter of the night watch, guardians of the realm—guardians who were basically made off bastards, thieves, rapist, murderers and exiled nobles. "Father will know if you do." He finished.

I was a bit confused when he called upon to come with them, since I am neither Stark nor boy for that matter. Sansa had told me on many of our conversation that their father never brings them to this things, said it was no place for a lady.

I secretly made to grab Bran's hand, knowing it was also his first time—squeezing my hand in returned as both of us and all of the men here witness Eddard Stark swing his sword and slice clean from the neck, the deserter's head stumbled and rolled half a feet away and blooding gushing form his neck.

"You did well," Jon complimented, turning to leave. I breathe out a long held breath, Robb turning to the both of us and leading us away towards our horses. I squeeze Bran hand's as we parted ways to tend to our horses.

"Dany," Robb called as I was fastening the saddle on my horse. Turning to him, I was slightly awestruck as his hands held out a single blue rose towards me. It was beautiful. "Thank you." The tips of my finger brush its petals. He curved a small smile which I smiled in return.

I tucked away the flower inside my robe's pocket and continued to fasten the saddle. Turning back to him, he's expression hardened, "You understand why my father did it?" he asked.

I looked at him confused, but his gaze stared at me unwavering, I gazed hesitantly at the beheading stone, "Jon said he was a deserter." I answered him.

"But do you understand why he had to kill him?"

I looked at him sadly, "If you inherit and become lord, will you also do this?" I cringed. I already knew what his answer will be, but I hope and delude myself thinking that Robb was not that kind of man, that he was kind and gentle.

"It is the responsibility of the Lord as Warden of the north." He answered and I felt crushed.

"No—I don't understand why you had to kill him." I said, annoyed, glaring at him as I do. "He hasn't done anything wrong."

He sighed, "You don't know what they are, Dany. Those men—"he pointed furiously towards the direction of the Wall,"—murderers, thieves, rapist, and slavers. The Wall was their second chance. He broke a vow, an oath."

"But why murder him? Chop off his head! He was just a child Robb, no older than me and certainly younger than you!" furiously saying, my fist clasping the reins tightly, trying to ease the anger swelling inside of me.

"It was an execution." He dangerously said an undertone that I haven't heard him say before.

I looked at him, sighing exasperatedly. I grabbed his right hand, circling it with my own, "Mercy." Enunciating it as I rubbed my thumb gently over his hand, "Exile him—send him to the free cities, I don't care. You don't need shed blood, all for the sake of duties."

"'Our way is the Old Way'" he quoted, "A man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. A man who breaks his oath can never be trusted, m'lady, always remember that."

"Spoils of war then?" I said accusingly. He tried to answer me, jarring his mouth and closing it as if no words can ever sweetened the bitterness of truth. I shook my head, disapprovingly at him. The old way was barbaric—so was Robert Baratheon as he murdered my mother, killed my brother, his wife, and my niece and nephew and just like that deserter, I was just an object of possession, my life was theirs to control.

I sighed, my anger slowly fading, "Is it true he saw the White Walkers?" I asked him.

He answered, "The White Walkers have been gone for a thousand of years."

"So he was lying?" he made to help me saddle my horse. I pulled the reins to steady myself, brushing the mane with my fingers to ease the horse. He looked at me in contemplation, "A madman sees what he sees."

I nodded to him as he turned and walked away. I watched for the last time the stone hedges that surround the beheading stone and plains beyond it, snow slowly spreading like blanket. Letting out a fresh breathe of cold smoke, I whispered silently to myself,

"Winter is coming."

* * *

**Robb**

* * *

It has been three days since I last her—no it's been two nights and three days, since she has locked herself inside her room. Although, my mother who claims that she does not like the Targaryen Princess, I know she brings her food and often times bring her knitted napkins. Sansa would glare at me whenever we passed by each other and Jon would shake his head disapprovingly at me.

I often wonder where their loyalties lie. Have they forgotten I'm there blood and kin?

Anger swell inside me as when I seek her out, the strangest thing is I couldn't find her. She would extraordinarily evade me and Sansa and god forbid, my mother would hide her from me. I couldn't help it, one morning I exploded of this ridiculousness during breaking our fast that I found my father's dumbstruck expression comical. He demanded me then in his low, hoarse voice, to 'spend a day and ease off' in godswood.

Now here I am, sitting on a stone, glancing to nothing but the reflection of my face off the water of the pond where the weirwood stood magnificently beside. Grey Wind sat beside me leaning back his head upon my thigh. He was my pet, a direwolf pup and five more we found upon our trek back to the great keep after the sentence. It's mother killed by a stag, too far south of the wall. As a sigil of our house, my siblings and I found ourselves owning one of the pups and I have mine the biggest of its litter.

"I've never seen such beautiful place before." I turned my attention, her figure sort-of gliding along the fallen red leaves, three blue roses in her arms.

"It's where the children of the forest kept to pray to the old gods." I said, beckoning her closer to me. Grey Wind moved away, playing around the leaves, as she sat beside me, laying the blue roses on the pond as they floated towards it center.

"I've never believe in gods before." She confessed, "The people in Dorne aren't much into religion. But they believe in one thing, 'yours is your own' very much like 'old way's our way'"

I made to say to her but she hush me by grasping my hands to hers, entwining her fingers with mine. She continued, "I know I've been childish and I'm sorry. But deep down I wish it was different. I knew it, always has been. Gutted me to the core on how barbaric it is. Oberyn and Doran would shield me; lock me in my room if they could, whenever they'd pass judgment. They were not as merciful as you, they'd burn him alive and the screams of those accused could be heard all over the water gardens."

I hadn't noticed the tears falling gently from her cheeks until she made to wipe it with her skirt, "You are too kind and gentle, sweet Daenerys." I told her, tracing her cheeks with my thumb.

"No fit to wear a crown or rule." She justified, her surprised expression, confused me. "Do you wish to rule the seven kingdoms?" I asked her warily.

She shook her head in disagreement, "If I meant to rule and it will be done. I ought to believe that if one has power and will to rule, surely why not?"

I nodded to her. I circled my arm around her, to warmth her but mostly to keep her close to me, "Do you not ever wish to take back the throne?"

She inhaled deeply, sighing cold smokes from her breaths, "One day, perhaps I'll make you my king when I do, but for now, I'm satisfied with this." She leaned into my arms and I sighed contently.

* * *

"Robb! Robb!" I opened my eyes to find Daenery's silver hair dangling around my cheeks, her head slumped beside the stone, and her finger laying gently over my sleeping direwolf's fur. I must have fallen asleep, as I was lying my head on her lap. I sat up, careful not to wake her up. She shivered slightly and I pulled over my fur coat to warmth her.

"Was is it Bran?" my younger brother made to soft footsteps as he came to me, his pup following behind. "Father wants you and her lady back to the keep, Says a raven from King's Landing has arrived." I nodded to him as he run off.

I tapped her shoulders to wake her. Her long lashes flutter opened, smiling beautifully as she held out her hand. I holstered her up to a stand then pulling my coat over her. "You get easily cold." I remarked. Touching her cheeks who was starting to frost.

"I don't know, maybe Dorne was too warm for me that I got used to it."

"Yet you seem to belong here." I snorted as she chuckled lightly. "Come, news from King's Landing arrived. Father wants us back."

* * *

**Jon**

* * *

I pushed open the oak doors just to find my father, Lady Stark, the Targaryen girl and all my siblings sitting of their own seat. I headed towards my seat which was beside Robb at his left, noticing his hands entwine with her underneath the table.

I nodded to my father as I settled in. "News…" he started, glancing to his wife a hesitantly, "Jon Arryn is dead."

"The hand of the king?" Robb asked. Lady Catelyn nodded, "A fever took him."

"There's more." Father continued, "The king rides to north in a months time, possibly a week or two by now. And his queen and their children and everyone of King's Landing."

"It could only mean one thing." I stated, "He'll ask you to be the Hand."

Lady Stark shook her head furiously, "Ned, my love, you don't have to go" she touched his hand pleadingly, "you can always say no."

"Father, you have fought more battles for him, surely isn't it just for him not to ask you of this?" I inquired noticing Lady Stark softening expression.

"We shall see when the King arrives." Father concluded, but to everyone, worried expression adorned their northern features.

Sansa looked to the silver-haired girl, "Father," she spoke in her girlish voice, "what about their wedding?"

I looked to my brother and his soon-to-be-bride as my father looked at them calculatingly, "the wedding will proceed as planned. Robb, tell Maester Luwin to send a message to the king of Robb's upcoming nuptials. For the next days, we must prepare for the coming of the king."

As my father finished, all of us went to our separate ways, my father to his greeting hall to attend of Winterfell business, Lady Stark to her chambers, my younger brothers to their practice as well as my sisters to their lessons.

I turned to Robb as he leaned in to his bride and whispered to her ear, she smiled sweetly at him, before the both of them made to leave, she turned to me, her pale skin glistened as a little light ray shone just exactly over her cheeks,

"We're going for a walk over the snow outside the Keep, would you like to join us, Jon?" she asked, her velvet voice smoothen delicately like melodies from a lute. Robb look at her adoringly before turning to me.

For a moment I was tempted to take the offer, "No thank you, I promised Theon I'd ride with me." I declined, smiling at her weakly. She smiled to me sweetly before nodding to Robb and disappearing behind the door.

I prayed to the old gods silently to ease the little tugged in my heart. I pulled my fur over my leather pelts, fastening them to their belts, ready to find Theon who probably be up for a ride in Wolf's wood. The cold wind was chilly, not even good for a horse ride, but maybe—it might even for a second—freeze his heart from all the jealousy his been building up lately.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Got you confused now ha? Write a review and let me know what you think.

**Update Time: Two Days**


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